Chapter Four #3
He seemed to give the question serious thought. “Maybe once or twice, when I was younger. Some misguided girls thought marrying a Navy SEAL might be a decent fate. I disabused them of that notion soon enough.”
“Oh my goodness. You were a SEAL?”
“Yeah. Thought I said.”
“Only that you were in the Navy.”
He shrugged. “Yeah.”
She got the impression he didn’t much want to go further, so she came back to the matter at hand. “Well. I can see where they get the stony-faced thing—but that’s your expression, not your looks.”
“According to them, it’s more than the expression. It’s the personality. Cash once told me I have about as much charm as a granite cliff.”
She couldn’t hold in the laugh; she could see exactly what his friend meant.
But when the eyebrows registered their disappointment at her laughter, she reached out and touched his arm again.
She really must stop doing that. “I can see the underlying reasoning. But I have to tell you—granite cliffs can be particularly charming, you know.”
He let out a short laugh. “You wouldn’t try to bullshit me, would you, lady?”
She bristled and stood a little taller. “I would not. It’s subjective, of course. Some people find granite cliffs terribly intimidating, and not remotely handsome. I, on the other hand…”
She let it trail off. She really needed to stop this. There was something about him that brought it out of her.
“But anyway. You big heathen—we’re meant to be here for ancient Greek culture, not flattery.
” She returned her attention to the display in front of them.
When she glanced back over her shoulder and caught the grin on his face, she felt as though the trip would have been worthwhile even if they left that very second.
~ ~ ~
Blane was content to let her set the pace as she wandered from display to display, looking over pieces of pottery and jewelry.
There were ancient texts, too, and it fascinated him to think of people writing all this down thousands of years ago.
It was all interesting enough, but his attention kept coming back to Bea.
She seemed fascinated by every little detail. Her enthusiasm might not have been contagious enough to turn him into an ancient-history buff, but he sure as hell enjoyed watching her enjoy it.
“Oh, look at this.” Her eyes shone as she looked up at him.
Hazel, he decided. That was the color he’d been trying to pin down. Sometimes brown, sometimes green—it seemed to depend on the light. Out in the sun, and when she lit up from the inside like this, they went greener.
Her smile faltered. “Is everything all right?”
He realized he’d been staring straight at her, looking into her eyes like some kind of— “It’s all good.” He turned to the figure she was pointing at. “Damn. Is that a bull rider?” Relieved to have something else to focus on, he leaned a little closer to the display.
Bea studied the placard, the way she seemed to with every single thing.
“It says here that he’s a bull jumper. He isn’t trying to ride it; he’s leaping over it.
” She looked up at him again. “Which, if you ask me, sounds far more sensible. If I saw a bull coming, I’d want to jump out of the way too, even if that meant going over it. ”
He narrowed his eyes, figuring he knew what was coming. He was right.
“You Americans prefer to leap on their backs, I understand.”
He tried for stern, and for once wasn’t sure he pulled it off; the urge to smile was right there, fighting him. “Don’t think I told you I’m from Montana. Most of my friends are cowboys. So—yeah. Bull riding.”
The stricken look that crossed her face hit him harder than it had any right to.
“Oh, Blane. I’m ever so sorry. I didn’t mean—” was all she managed before his hand came down on her shoulder.
He couldn’t help it. He wanted to reassure her and didn’t know another way to do it. “I’m joking, Bea. Teasing. You’re gonna have to get the hang of the way I do that.”
She froze, and he knew why almost as soon as the words were out.
Stupid thing to say. There was no need for her to get the hang of anything.
A couple more hours this afternoon; then he’d already decided he’d spend what time he could with her at the concert tonight.
But after that… That would be it. Once Cash figured out whatever the hell he was doing with the jet, he’d fly home—and Bea would be leaving in the morning, whether she was going straight to Crete or heading home first.
He gave her shoulder a gentle shake. “You’ll never make it through the afternoon if you take me seriously.”
The tension went out of her shoulders under his hand. He should probably take the hand back, but he didn’t want to.
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to get used to it.”
He held her gaze, wondering which way she meant it.
The smile playing around her lips told him she had more than enough sense of humor to get the hang of his teasing.
Maybe it was only wishful thinking on his part that he heard something else underneath the words.
That she was sorry she wouldn’t have the chance to get used to him.